


The Princess and the Thief

by wings128



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Crossdressing, First Kiss, First Time, M/M, Outdoor Sex, Rimming, Semi-Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-01
Updated: 2015-12-01
Packaged: 2018-05-04 10:52:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5331491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wings128/pseuds/wings128
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Once upon a time there was a man who sucked at drinking games…</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Princess and the Thief

He was so screwed. He was never drinking with Chris again. It never ended well, not for Jensen.

“Here, man,” Chris grinned as he handed over what looked like the prop bags for a romcom shopping montage. “Start with the black ‘n’ red, then the blue; and the pink before the white.”

Jensen stared at his friend, though he was rethinking the connection the longer Chris continued to fire off instructions. None of which Jensen had heard a word of. Repeat. He was so screwed. He was never, repeat, never going up against Chris in a bar bet again.

Lose and I pick your costume for the WB Ball, had sounded harmless enough after tossing back the equivalent of a fifth of whiskey in shots. He’d end up in a stupid elf costume. Jensen had lost all five rounds, and now stood in his entrance hall looking between the bags hanging from his numb fingertips as if they might explode in his face, and his grinning friends. Chris wearing bedazzled chaps and a matching Stetson; and Danneel in an elf costume that looked more sexy than stupid. The tiny green flip skirt that rode low on her hips and the red and white striped stockings with black belts and fake-gold buckles for garters, guaranteed Danni would get laid tonight.

“You’re not backin’ out are ya, Jen?” Chris turned Jensen at the shoulders and tapped his ass to get him moving.

“Give me a shout if you need any help.” Danneel called up after Jensen as he climbed the stairs to his bedroom. “And don’t forget to shave…everything!”

~*~

“No fucking way!” Jensen had up-ended the bags across his comforter. “No fucking way!”

Chris was dead! Jensen’d do time, he didn’t care, it’d be worth it. An orange jumpsuit, or pink satin and a profusion of white petticoats, was a no-brainer. And he wasn’t even going to look at the tangle of lingerie that had fallen from the black ‘n’ red bag. Jensen supposed the packaging should have warned him. He was screwed. Chris was dead. Danni too, because there was no way Chris had shopped for a corset and stockings with ribbon garters – all in Jensen’s size – without her help.

His watch bleeped the hour. A cheerful reminder, that in three hours, he’d be due at the most prestigious career-making event of the year. 

“Fuck!”

Jensen yanked the safe familiar grey cotton over his head, and tossed it in the general direction of the hamper; before thumbing open his button fly, shoving out of his jeans, and striding into his ensuite.

Half way through the surprisingly relaxing process of shaving his legs, balls, pubes, the twenty-six chest hairs he’d been cultivating since puberty, and his jaw; Jensen decided this was a role like any other. He was a professional, dammit!

And a bet’s a bet, his conscience whispered as Jensen smoothed up the second delicate pink stocking; pulled the white ribbon tight before tying a neat bow.

It wasn’t until he stood up, feet in pink satin slippers – thank god Chris hadn’t got him six inch stilettos – that Jensen realised he would need help getting ready. Both corset and dress laced up in the back. The flounce of petticoat covered everything from waist to ankle, and tucked between his legs like a cat wanting cream, when he moved. It was a wonder women got anything done. A little – or a lot – of ribbing might bruise his ego for one night, but this get up was gonna kill him. Jensen saw himself in a heap of pink silk and stockings, neck broken at the bottom of his stairs. He was going to haunt Chris-Fucking-Kane for the rest of his miserable life!

“Danneeeel!”

Jensen jumped when his door opened before he’d finished yelling her name. Of course she’d been right outside. Peeking through the keyhole, if he’d had one.

“Here, let me.” Danneel smiled, and dropped miles of pink silk over Jensen’s head. The fabric falling with a hushed whisper over the underskirt. “Arms.”

Danneel guided each of Jensen’s hands through the capped sleeves and tugged up the bodice before gesturing for him to turn away from her. “I have to tighten your corset before I can do the dress, okay?” 

Jensen nodded, not really listening. His balls were sliding in the cradle of his pink satin panties. How the hell was he going to last the night? Jensen swallowed past the hard lump in his dry throat. At least a hard on wouldn’t be noticed under all this. Danneel tip-toed in her red heels and settled the blonde wig on Jensen’s head. Jensen rolled his eyes. Of course it would be blonde.

“The Jasmine costume was taken.” Danneel smirked, and Jensen paled at his near miss. He drew the line at see-through harem pants and tiny bra top; least this way he was covered. “Besides, blonde goes with your eyes, and the pink matches your…pretty mouth.”

Jensen scoffed. “Pretty mouth?”

“What? You’d prefer cock-sucking lips?” Jensen choked on spit he didn’t have. “Not very ladylike Jen.”

“No. No, I suppose not.” Jensen agreed as Danneel pushed down on his shoulder.

“Now, sit there and I’ll do your face.” Jensen, now fully resigned to his fate, sat straight in his corset and tipped up his chin. “Just some mascara. Women everywhere would kill for these lashes, Jen. And a touch of gloss.”

Jensen pouted as directed, pinched his cheeks when told, and batted his lashes when Danneel declared he’d be the belle of the ball.

Chris banging on the bedroom door brought back the jackhammers in Jensen’s gut.

“Limo’s here, ladies.”

Danneel opened the door and Jensen had the satisfaction of watching Chris trip over his tongue.

“Rapunzel, let me feel your hair.” Chris drawled as he ran the backs of his fingers down Jensen’s forearm.

Jensen shoved him off and growled. “You can’t, it’s down the shower drain.”

Chris gaped. “Y’mean you actually…”

“Yeah, and you’ll be scratching my balls while it grows back!”

Jensen was halfway down the stairs – how the fuck did women do this – by the time Chris found his voice again.

“I’ll leave that honour for your prince.”

“But what if my prince never comes?” Jensen simpered, palm to his brow, as he slipped on the last step and Danneel snatched his wrist to keep him up right.

“Oh, Jen, he’ll come. All over his tight tights and enormous codpiece.” Jensen gave a small smile, his friends’ laughter fading out for a moment. Here’s hoping Danneel was right. He’d dated more than his fair share of frogs, perhaps tonight he would meet his prince.

If there was a fairy godmother for lonely Texas boys who went to balls dressed as kidnapped Disney princesses, Jensen hoped she’d grant his wish.

~*~

Their limo pulled up to the red carpet in a cacophony of flashbulbs and screaming fans, which flooded the interior as soon as the door was opened. Jensen wished the black leather seat would swallow him whole.

Chris climbed out first; blinding everyone within a five block radius, as the camera flashes ricocheted off rhinestones and his obscenely large belt buckle. “Howdy, folks!”

Jensen chuckled at the exaggerated hip roll and hat brim salute his friend gave the crowds; grateful for the distraction. Even if it was pointless. 

Jensen was never drinking – or betting – with Chris ever again.

“Put both legs out first, use the edge of the door to stand.” Danneel coached.

Despite the wig and the pink princess gown, Jensen felt bare-ass naked, and no amount of money, or amendments to the Bro Code would make him linger on the red carpet longer than it took to get from the limo to the building.

Danneel must have known what he was thinking, because she clutched tight to his elbow. “If you run in those things,” she gestured to Jensen’s oversized satin slippers, “it won’t be your face that appears in the tabloids tomorrow.”

Jensen shivered. The mental picture of him landing ass up in a puddle of silk on the red carpet, fresh-shaved balls as TV Guide’s front cover, had him squeezing Danneel’s hand until the bones ground together. She hissed and Jensen let go with a whispered apology.

“No one will recognise you, Jen. One foot in front of the other.”

It was a lifetime of lifetimes before Jensen reached the shelter of the receiving room. But he was still upright. Thank his fairy godmother.

Even in his frazzled mental state, Jensen could appreciate the effort that had gone into the decorations. The high ceiling was bathed in warm yellow light from the four chandeliers, each dripping with more crystals than Chris’s chaps. Orange and pink bouquets of flowers and baubles topped the oval of cream columns, each connected to the next by scoops of gold bunting and falls of silver chiffon. There had to be two hundred bigwigs, would-be actors, stars and starlets, producers, writers, DP’s, and bean counters, spilling into the spaces between round tables and onto the parquet dance floor; and yet the room still seemed empty.

Jensen was relieved. It would be easy for him to blend in, or y’know, hide.

“Drink?” Chris asked, smirk on his lips as he offered a champagne flute to Jensen.

“Thanks.” Jensen snatched the glass and downed its contents without tasting them. “They better have beer.”

“Easy, darlin’” Chris purred. “We’ve got all night.”

Jensen considered bribing a passing waiter – damn you could bounce a quarter off that ass – into giving him a bottle. But Chris was right; he’d never land his prince if he was too drunk to say, what a big codpiece you have.

Danneel patted his arm in what she obviously thought was a reassuring way, before weaving into the crowd; hips swaying like a pendulum. At least one of them was guaranteed some action tonight, Jensen thought, and snatched another flute from a passing tray.

~*~

By the time Jensen made it across the ballroom he had bumped in to Eric, an up and coming scriptwriter whose 50s Robin outfit matched his exuberant personality; had stopped to talk with Gabriel dressed as Hercules and Justin in his Smallville costume – the guy had never had much of an imagination. Danni had introduced Jensen to Milo, unfortunately for Milo Jensen was looking for a tall prince, not a short knight. And Chris, well, Chris’s sense of who would be quote-unquote, perfect for you Jen, got worse with each of his quote-unquote friend’s offerings. 

Jensen kept hiding; behind the silver curtains, back to back with Tom whose scrubs were as blue as his eyes; and even the columns. But Chris always found him. That exaggerated southern drawl rolling honey thick over Jensen’s name as he introduced Zorro, two soldiers, a fellow cowboy in a hot pink shirt and bootlace tie, and a real life Frenchman complete with waxed moustache. Jensen excused himself when the guy got handsy; he’d found the frog, but there was still no sign of his prince.

He took two more flutes from another waiter – there was no beer – sculled them one after the other, and left the glasses on the table closest to the balcony doors. Jensen could feel the cool air on his flushed cheeks as it played in the fake silk of his bangs, enticing him out into the night. He didn’t take much convincing. The ball was a bust.

“Jensen!” He sighed, his chance of freedom snatched away by the firm grip of a delicate hand on his arm.

“Danneel.” 

His friend grinned, teeth white against the smudged cherry of her lipstick.

“This is Chad, and Sandy.” Danneel gestured to a blonde spikey-haired Fed whose black suit was tighter than Catwoman’s, and an angel with a tumble of chestnut curls and the tiniest, fluffiest wings Jensen had ever seen. Sandy’s make up was also blurry around the edges, and Jensen’s suspicions were confirmed when Danni pulled the petite brunette into a kiss.

“Good to meet you.” Jensen nodded before turning back to the exit.

He was done. The right ribbon had come loose and its stocking was bunched behind his knee. Jensen’d have to fix it before he left, because it was throwing off his balance.

“Jen’s looking for a prince.” Danneel said between pecks to Sandy’s kiss-swollen lips. Her hand tracing low on the other woman’s stomach; silver glitter shimmering as Sandy leaned into the touch.

“Danni!” Jensen hissed. He’d had more than enough help for one night.

“Really?” Chad asked, eyes raking over Jensen from behind 90s Ray-Ban’s, as if appraising a horse. “You should meet my friend, Jared.”

Jensen gritted his teeth but said nothing. There was no reason to suppose this Jared would turn out to be any better than any of the others.

“Jay-man?” Chad turned on the spot, puzzled. “Huh? Sorry man, must’ve found another princess.”

Jensen waved off Chad’s apology, a twinge of regret low in his gut. He hadn’t met Jared, but something told Jensen he would’ve liked him.

“I’m gonna…” Jensen gestured behind him to the balcony.

“Okay.” Danni offered him a sad smile that made Jensen feel like shit, before taking Sandy in her arms, their hair blending like chocolate and strawberry as they kissed; the room around them forgotten.

The night air hit Jensen like a slap to the face, adding more colour to his already flushed cheeks, and stealing his breath. Goosebumps rose on his arms but it was infinitely preferable to the overheated and noisy ballroom.

A couple were kissing in the shadows to his right, so Jensen headed left. The marble of the balustrade cool under his palm as he looked out into the lantern lit garden. A view like this made it easy to believe in fairy tales.

Jensen huffed at himself and tugged up his skirt, but it was impossible to hold the fabric out of his way and untangle the ribbon that was stopping the stocking from sliding back over his knee.

“Fuck!”

He swung his foot up onto the railing and tossed the bulk of his skirts over his shoulder. Jensen panted as cold air rushed to caress his bare thighs; his sensitive balls pulling tight. His cock twitched and Jensen took a moment to enjoy the feeling before wrestling with the ribbon again. He had to keep shifting his left foot to keep his balance, and the whole thing was proving far more difficult than Jensen felt it needed to be.

“Fuck!”

Jensen lurched, flailed as his leg gave out beneath him, and the vision that had haunted him since he’d seen the costume was about to come true, when huge hands cinched his waist. Jensen leaned into the solid chest behind him, heart pounding against his corseted ribs.

“Easy, I’ve got you.”

Jensen felt like a swooning virgin. That voice; with its molten caramel vowels, reminded him so much of home.

“Er...” He croaked, mouth dry and tight. “Thanks.”

“Welcome.” Holy shit the guy was tall! Jensen had to look up to fall into those eyes; loose bangs swept across high cheekbones, and oh fuck, dimples! Jensen was so done. “I’m Jared.”

“J-Jen-sen.”

The dimples deepened, and Jared leaned in, his features blurring the closer he got to Jensen’s mouth. Jensen whimpered, couldn’t help it as confident hands curved over his hips.

“You need a hand with that?”

Jensen swallowed, fluttered his eyes open. He hadn’t realised he’d shut them, had forgotten he still had one foot on the railing; his junk on display. Jensen fidgeted, embarrassment hot on his face and chest. “Ah, yeah, thanks.”

Jared hummed. The sound vibrated against Jensen’s neck, echoed down to his cock. And oh God, this was happening. Jared scooped Jensen into his arms, skirt still over his shoulder, Jared’s warm forearm behind Jensen’s knees, and turned to settle Jensen on the bench seat Jensen hadn’t noticed was there.

“Beautiful.” Jared whispered, his eyes trailing up Jensen’s legs, resting for a long moment on the bulge of Jensen’s satin-covered cock as if he was watching it grow, before continuing up over the glimpse of corset, and petticoat ruffles to meet Jensen’s wide eyes. “So hot, and sexy, and…mine.”

The last was murmured as a question and Jensen could do nothing except nod his agreement and gaze up at his prince. 

Jared wore a blue tunic over a white shirt with voluminous sleeves, brown breeches that laced up over a promising package, and tucked into brown leather kneeboots. Jensen couldn’t help hoping there was lube in the small satchel on Jared’s belt.

Jensen continued to stare, dazed, as Jared knelt at Jensen’s feet, talented fingers making short work of the tangled ribbon. Jensen spread his legs wider; couldn’t help it. Little sparks of pleasure blooming heat under his skin wherever Jared touched him. The slide of silk on his hairless thigh as Jared smoothed the stocking back into place. Jensen dropped a hand down to squeeze himself, cupped the hard line of his dick, elastic sharp under its head. He groaned, shifted his hips and felt Jared’s eyes on him.

He pictured how he must look to Jared; wanton and needy, legs splayed, one over the back of the bench, the other flung out to the side. And at the centre; his cock, trapped in its pink satin prison. The thought had Jensen leaking a sticky mess; impossible to hide. 

“I could help with that too.” Jared offered, voice rough and low, his fingers scribing patterns into Jensen’s shaking thighs; inching closer. His eyes never leaving Jensen’s.

“Please.”

Jensen was reduced to begging, his brain having melted out his ears when Jared had picked him up in his arms. All he wanted was whatever Jared was willing to give him.

Jared slid his palms under Jensen’s knees and pushed; folded Jensen in half, stockinged calves in the air. Jensen felt exposed and rude, the position pushing his cock and balls up to meet Jared’s face.

“Hold your knees for me, Jen.” Jensen jerked as hot breath caressed the backs of his thighs and the curve of his ass. “I wanna taste you.”

Jensen groaned and gripped his knees to his chest, unable to see any of Jared at all past the festoon of petticoat. But he could feel him, oh fuck! could he feel him. The rasp of stubble was bright and shocking in his crack; hot breath and wet delve of tongue fervent as it played over the satin hiding his hole. Jared’s finger stroked him there and pressed at his entrance, before hooking Jensen’s panties out of his way.

It was messy, and sudden, and dirty, and everything Jensen had craved. Jared’s tongue squirmed inside him. Strong fingers bit into his cheeks; spread him wider, held him open so Jared could lick into his hole and lap at his rim. Jensen felt it pulse at Jared’s touch, felt his face heat at what Jared could see and taste; and know how needy Jensen was.

He was so wet. Jared’s spit coated him. And now, Jared was sucking kisses up to Jensen’s balls, and Jensen couldn’t help thrusting up to meet each and every one. He pulled his thighs tighter into his chest, head dropping back on the arm of the bench with a thunk. He groaned, but Jared had sucked Jensen’s balls into his hot hot mouth, rolled them on his tongue as he pushed two slick fingers inside Jensen; kept pushing until they were base deep. 

And ohfuckingodyeah! Jensen wanted more of that!

He wrapped his knees in one forearm and reached down to tug at Jared’s hair, tugged hard and bit his lip when the other man groaned encouragement.

Jared pumped his fingers fast, scraped Jensen’s sweet spot at the same time as he mouthed Jensen’s cock. Jensen was wild. A thrashing mess of white petticoats pink satin and silk stockings, as Jared drove him higher. His wig had fallen off and the bench cut into his shoulder, but Jensen didn’t care. His orgasm was licking its way down his spine; igniting in his belly with Jared’s relentless pumping. The squelch of lube squeezed loud and slick as Jensen’s rim gripped around the now-three fingers shoving into him; and yeah, he was gonna come like a fucking freight train. Jensen was going to come apart in the mouth of a stranger; skewered and bucking on his prince’s fingers at the goddamn WB Ball!

“Nnnnggghhh…Jared!”

Jensen came, hips jerking, torn between the fingers sliding and twisting in his ass and the hot suction of Jared’s mouth, white spots sparking behind his eyelids. He lost his grip on his knees, thighs falling wide over Jared’s forearms. Jared stroked and sucked Jensen through his aftershocks, created new waves of pleasure long after Jensen thought he was done; limbs weak and stretched like taffy.

“Jen?” Jared whispered, fingers still buried deep, thumb pressed up behind Jensen’s balls.

“Mmmm…”

“Can I fuck you?” Jensen shivered. He wanted that, wanted Jared. “You’d look so pretty on my cock, Princess.”

Jensen smirked at the porn star dialogue, but there was no denying the image it conjured. “Yeah, fuck Jared, do it!”

Jensen struggled to pull his legs wide again, but Jared stilled him; hooked Jensen’s panties down and off. Jared ducked his head and lapped over Jensen’s smooth balls up to the head of his cock, slurped at Jensen’s come. “So pretty.”

Jensen blushed, how he must look. Jared patted Jensen’s ass cheek with a huge palm, encouraging him to roll over. He wobbled but Jared was there, kept him safe; guided Jensen to spread for him; ass pushed up and out, framed by lace garters and frills.

“Fuck, Jen!” Jared murmured, his words thick with want, and Jensen felt the slide of Jared’s hands spreading him wide.

It seemed ridiculous to blush at this point, and yet the thought of Jared watching Jensen’s hole wink in needy invitation, made Jensen grateful for the long skirt that hid his face from the other man.

Jensen heard the rubbery snap of a condom and the sticky slide of more lube. Then Jared’s cock was at his entrance, massive and heavy with intent. Jared held Jensen hard, fingers biting into his hip cuts, kept Jensen still when he tried to push back. He had to have Jared’s cock inside him. Now.

The pressure was too much, and not enough. It burned like a sonovabitch, but Jensen wanted more; wanted all that Jared would give him. Jared was huge. Jensen felt like he was riding a baseball bat. He loved it. Jensen wriggled to get Jared deeper and Jared groaned, fucked his hips with meaty slaps against Jensen’s ass.

“That’s it.” Jared grunted.

The thrusts came hard and fast then, throwing Jensen forward, even as Jared yanked him back; shoving his cock so deep Jensen tried to close his legs around it and bear down. But Jared’s hand landed on Jensen’s nape, clamped tight in warning and Jensen mewed. It felt so damn good to be taken by someone who knew how. Jensen was blinded by the all-consuming sensation of Jared fucking him, filling him, claiming him, and his spent dick began to fill again; smacked against the smooth skin where his pubes had once been. The thought of another orgasm like the last was kinda terrifying, and yet Jensen was already addicted.

As if Jared sensed Jensen’s thoughts he picked him up, pulled Jensen’s back into his broad chest. Jensen bit down on a scream as Jared’s cock thrust deeper into him; opened him up, impaled him. Jared circled his hips and pressed a palm low on Jensen’s belly. Jensen could feel Jared’s cock stroking his insides. He groaned and rolled in Jared’s lap when Jared pressed harder; seared Jared’s possession of him into Jensen’s body and mind.

“Come for me, Jen.” Jared ordered, harsh and desperate, and bit down on Jensen’s earlobe. “Wanna feel you.”

Jensen obeyed, cock jerking untouched; hips held rigid in Jared’s hands, his ass pulsing, memorizing the shape of Jared inside him, undeniable and perfect. Jared was moving before Jensen had finished falling; impatient and hungry for his own release. Jensen slumped into the wall of muscle behind him, head lolling on Jared’s shoulder with every shunt as Jared grunted toward his pleasure.

“Jen,” Jared choked, hoarse and needy. “Kiss me.”

Jensen turned his head, eager and thirsty for his first taste of Jared. Jared groaned, shuddered as he came, and Jensen swallowed down every sound; grinding into the pressure of Jared’s palm on his belly, Jared’s tongue in his mouth, his own hands tangled tight in soft sweaty strands of brown silk.

Jensen hissed through Jared’s withdrawal, whimpered at the gentle caress of fingers around his puffy hole, and blushed at Jared’s quiet chuckle.

Jared stood before Jensen, costume laced and buttoned as if nothing had happened, and Jensen couldn’t help the sense of abandonment fluttering in his chest. He’d hoped for more, but apparently Jared…didn’t?

“Better get back.” Jared gestured over his shoulder to the golden lit doorway where the band was playing something Jensen didn’t recognise or care about. It seemed strange that the ball had continued on without them, when Jensen’s life had changed.

“Yeah, sure.” He nodded, unable to meet Jared’s eyes. “Of course.”

“Okay…” Jared hovered, ran a hand through his hair just as Jensen had done only moments before. “Thanks.”

“Any time.” Jensen sighed, and set about righting his own clothes as Jared’s bootsteps faded away.

~*~

It was three days later when Jensen, dressed in ragged blue jeans and boots, walked into the waiting room for his audition and found Jared already sitting there.

“Hi.” He offered, voice and body strung tight.

Jensen had the satisfaction of watching Jared flush white, then red, before evening out to what must be his usual shade of pale tan.

“Jen!” Jared was out of his seat, unfolding into a towering sasquatch of hotness and wrapping Jensen’s respectable six-two body in an octopus of a hug. “God, I wanted to give you my number but I’d lost my phone that morning and those pants didn’t leave room for a pen and I’d never done that before and you blew my mind Jen and I…”

Jensen felt his mouth curving into a grin at Jared’s genuine distress, and felt the tension ease out of his own shoulders enough to pound a palm between Jared’s. “S’okay, Jay.”

It surprised Jensen to realise that it really was. He doubted anyone could stay mad with Jared for more than a minute. Not with those puppy eyes, and the dimples. Fuck! The Dimples!

“Can I have your number?” Jared asked, whisper quiet as the two of them sat down in the otherwise deserted room.

Jensen reached out for Jared’s phone and tapped in his number, before giving it back. His pulse leaped when Jared’s palm brushed the back of his hand. Jared’s grin was infectious and Jensen realised that his nerves about the audition had fled. “Are you here for Dean?”

“Sam.” Jared corrected.

“Oh,” Jensen murmured, nerves back in full force. “Me too.”

“Oh.” Jared was quiet for a minute, then turned his body to face Jensen; their knees knocking. “Hey, wanna hang out after?”

Jensen looked up from his lap to see the tiniest scrap of pink satin peeking out of Jared’s hip pocket. His jeans were tighter than they had been a minute ago, and he tried to shift without Jared noticing. Jensen’d wondered where the hell they’d gone. He had broken out in a cold sweat just thinking about the cleaner finding come-stained panties the next day; dreamed about being hauled in for a DNA test, the panties held up as evidence of his depravity. The thought that Jared had stolen them had never occurred to him. Jensen was hot and squirming in his seat as he looked up to find Jared staring back, white teeth sharp in the soft flesh of his bottom lip.

“Fuck. Yeah.” Jensen murmured, soft and breathless, just as the office door clicked open.


End file.
